


A Perfect Day

by Dolimir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Schmoop, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dean's first time driving the Impala.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2009 SPN_Summergen challenge.
> 
> Many thanks go to Kendermouse, Thistle90 and Indraleigh for their betas. Any mistakes though, are my own.

John Winchester was an incredibly happy man. All his years of hard work were finally starting to pay off. He and Mike were known in Lawrence as being honest mechanics and because of that word-of-mouth publicity people were practically lining up around the block. Business had been so good they’d actually been able to afford to hire two other full-time mechanics.

After Sammy was born, Mary had quit her teaching position in order to stay home with the boys. John loved that he was able to provide for her and the boys; that they didn’t need her income in order to survive, although he knew better than to admit such a thing out loud. He especially liked the fact they didn’t have to leave the boys’ care to strangers.

His boys. How he had ever thought he was complete without a family still astounded him. He could remember being hip deep in mud in Nam, thinking, truly believing, he wouldn’t live to see another sunrise, let alone survive the war and become a successful business man and father. But survive he had.

A red leaf floated into his line of sight and he huffed once in amusement. It was silly to be reminiscing about such a dark time of his life. He hunched back down to look into the belly of the Impala. It wasn’t that she needed any work done, but he enjoyed tinkering on her.

“Daddy!”

John turned and smiled hugely as he spotted his four year old son jumping off the last step of the porch. Mary was just coming out of the doorway, carrying their youngest, as Dean ran toward him.

Taking a step forward, John reached out and swung his eldest up into his arms. “How you doing, buddy? Got that nap all out of the way?”

Dean nodded, then twisted slightly so that he could peer at the engine.

“Gonna help your old man tinker with the car?”

“You’re not old, daddy.”

John snorted once in humor. “Well, I’m glad you think so.” He carefully sat Dean on the edge of the engine well, not worried about the boy’s balance as Dean had been supervising his work on the Impala since he was two.

“Hey, Baby.” John pressed a tender kiss to his wife’s lips. “How’d the Captain sleep?”

“Well enough, I suppose.”

“But he’ll still get up tonight?”

Mary laughed. “Probably.”

“Baby.”

John turned to look at his eldest. “What was that, buddy?”

Dean leaned forward and patted the air filter fondly. “Baby.”

Mary shot John a curious look, but John could only shrug. “Are you calling the car, your baby?”

Nodding, Dean smiled brightly.

“Why?”

Dean’s brows furled as if he wasn’t sure what his father was asking, or, perhaps, why he didn’t understand. “You call Mommy baby ‘cause you love her.”

“Yeah.”

“You call Sammy baby ‘cause he is.”

John chuckled. “I’ll give you that one.”

“You call me baby…sometimes.”

“I do, because I love you too.”

The innocent smile Dean graced him with warmed John’s heart.

“Baby.” Dean leaned forward and patted the engine again.

“It’s genetic.” Mary snickered as she playfully nudged John’s shoulder. Sammy cooed happily, looking back and forth between his parents.

“I certainly hope so.” John was pleased that Dean was showing a love for mechanics. He could admit that a garage named Winchester and Sons would probably make his world complete.

“So what’s this, buddy?”

“Rat-i-ator,” Dean said confidently.

“Radiator,” John corrected.

Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion. “But that’s what I said, Daddy.”

Her eyes dancing with laughter, Mary leaned against the car next to Dean. As soon as Sammy saw his brother, he reached out in a flailing gesture. “Yeah, Daddy, that’s what he said,” she repeated faux-innocently.

John smiled affectionately at his wife, then ruffled Dean’s hair. Dean, who had taken Sammy’s hand, looked up at John and nodded.

“Yeah, I suppose you did. So what’s this, smart guy?”

“Injun block.”

John bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud and noticed that Mary was doing the same.

“And these?”

“Park plugs.”

Mary raised a questioning eyebrow toward him, and John nodded, still amused.

“And this?”

“Oil filter.”

“And this?”

“Air filter.”

“And this?”

“Battery.”

“And this?”

“Dip stick.”

John stood up and scratched his head. “Huh.”

Dean’s smile was brilliant as he held out his hand expectantly.

Confused, John shook his hand. But Dean only sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No, Daddy.”

“No, what?”

“Keys, please.”

“Keys?”

Dean’s smile waned and his lower lip started to push out in a pout. “You said.”

“I said?” John looked at Mary, hoping she could clarify, but she only shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slightly.

His son’s lower lip wobbled.

“Hey, buddy, now don’t get upset.” John leaned forward and lifted Dean’s chin with his fingers. “Remember what I said about getting older? Well, sometimes we forget things. All you have to do is remind me so I’ll remember again. Okay?”

Dean sniffed once, but nodded. “You said when I could name everything in the injun, you’d let me drive.”

John startled at that statement, then straightened and looked at his wife. “I told him that last summer. I didn’t think he’d remember.”

Reaching out with her free arm, Mary gently cupped her eldest son’s face. “Apparently, he did.” She looked back at John, her face slightly challenging, as if asking him what he intended to do.

“Wellllllllllll then,” John drawled, “it looks like we’re going for a ride.”

Dean looked at him so expectantly, so hopefully, that John thought his heart would break if he didn’t get his son behind the wheel of the car within the next thirty seconds.

“Can Sammy and I come too, or is this a father/son thing?” Mary asked Dean.

“Course you can come, Mommy.”

Dean twisted and lifted his arms, waiting for his father to lift him up.

“Thank you, baby.” Mary pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head, then moved to the back of the car so she could strap Sammy into his car seat.

John swung Dean up and around to his back, chuckling when Dean squealed with laughter and clung to his neck. John lifted the hood enough to unlatch the safety rod, then snapped it into its resting position and dropped the hood. Moving Dean to his hip, he walked to the driver side door.

He opened the door, set Dean in front of the steering wheel and then squatted beside him.

“Okay, here’s the thing, buddy. You’re still too short to reach the pedals.”

He watched as Dean looked at his feet and then at the pedals on the floor.

“So I was thinking, why don’t you stand in my lap and I’ll do all the leg work.”

He watched his son’s face as he worked out the logistics. Mary shut the back door, then walked around the car, got into the front passenger seat and put on her seat belt. Dean glanced at her briefly, then stretched one foot experimentally toward the pedals. Finally, he turned to his father and nodded.

“Scoot over a bit. Okay, buddy?”

Dean instantly obeyed.

John got into the car and shut the door before he reached for his son. Dean giggled as John placed him between his legs.

“Now where does the key go?” John asked.

“’Nition.”

“Very good.” John handed him the keys. He thought, perhaps, he should have pulled out the right key, but curiosity got the best of him.

Dean took the keys and with no hesitation at all, selected the right key.

“Can you put it in?”

Nodding, Dean used one hand to steady himself against the steering wheel, then bent and slid the key into the ignition.

“Go ahead and turn it, buddy.”

Under normal circumstances, John knew that Dean wouldn’t have the strength to be able to turn the ignition of a car, but he had tweaked the car so much it only needed a slight twist. As Dean turned the key, John fed the car just the slightest bit of gas so that it would purr loudly as it woke.

Dean’s face was one of bliss as he turned to face his father.

“Well done, Dean.” His son grinned shyly at him. “Will you let me put it in reverse and get us onto the street?”

Dean nodded solemnly, then leaned against his father’s chest to get out of the way. Once they were on the street, John turned Dean so that the boy was facing him.

“Normally, when you drive, you should wear a seat belt. But if we strap you in today, you won’t be able to see over the dash. So I’m going to make an exception – for today only. Do you know what an exception is?”

Dean nodded.

“What?”

“Means ‘just this once’.”

“Exactly.”

“The other thing you need to know is that you might want to rock the wheel back and forth--”

Dean shook his head. “Little mo-ments. You always make little mo-ments.”

“That’s right. Because big movements will send us crashing into other cars or off the side of the road, but your mommy and Sammy are in the car so we have to drive extra, extra safely.”

Dean twisted until he could see his mother. “I’ll keep you and Sammy safe, Mommy.”

“I know you will, baby.” Mary reached out and glided her hand down their son’s back in gentle reassurance.

John swallowed the lump growing in his throat and waited for Dean to turn back toward him. “You ready?”

A deep breath was John’s only answer.

“Just tell me when you’re ready.”

Dean solemnly put both of his hands on the wheel in the correct ten and two position. John expected him to immediately shout that he was ready, but instead Dean took another deep breath and released it. Taking his left hand off the wheel, he reached forward and patted the dashboard, as if reassuring the Impala that he had things well in hand.

Once his hand was back on the wheel, he squared his little shoulders. “I’m ready, Daddy.”

While he gently gave the car gas, he expected Dean to lurch backwards, to be caught off balance by the forward momentum, but again, he was surprised when his son managed to brace himself so that he didn’t move.

The car crept forward at a mile an hour, practically coasting under its own power. Dean was concentrating so hard on his task that his little knuckles were practically white with the strain.

“Ease up, buddy. Don’t be tense. If you’re too tense it can slow your reaction times. You’re doing great, so loosen your grip a little.” John gently ran his fingers over the back of Dean’s hands, smiling when Dean’s hands began to relax.

As they neared the stop sign at the end of the block, John had to smile as he felt Dean lean to his left, as if pushing on the brake himself.

Dean turned to look back at John. “Which way?”

“Aren’t you the one driving?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

John shot Mary a grin, but was surprised when he saw a melancholy look on his wife’s face. He raised an eyebrow, but she gave him a quick shake of the head.

“Straight,” Dean said.

“Good choice.” Pressing gently on the gas, he put his hands on his legs, prepared to take the wheel if he needed to, but Dean apparently had the situation well in hand.

After several more stops, they headed out of the city and onto a country road. John looked into the rearview mirror and saw that Sammy was asleep, despite his having just gotten up from a nap, lulled to sleep by the hum of the car.

John kept expecting Dean to say that he was over the thrill of driving, but his boy kept his eyes on the road. “Hey, buddy, do you want me to take over now?”

“Not yet, Daddy. Not yet.”

John turned to smile at his wife again, and saw her wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Like father, like son,” she mouthed at him.

Pride welled in John’s chest. His boy was just like him. And the thought of Dean following in his old man’s footsteps, of going into the family business, seemed more probable with each mile they drove.


End file.
